Dancing with the Devil
by 6Insanity6Painted6Black9
Summary: This is the beginning of the story and of how Scabior was raised in Voldemort's presence
1. Chapter 1

The boy was lying on the sofa, stretched out, his head on the squishy pillows at one end, his booted feet up on the armrest at the other end, the firelight of the fireplace flickering in his blue-gray eyes, his fair skin seeming to have color from the lights. No one disturbed his deep, careless thoughts nor did anyone disturb the room…or even think about him.

This unique teenage boy was named Scabior, no other name, _just_ Scabior, and despite living with the Malfoys, he was not a very sophisticated young wizard but he had grown an ego and pride that even a Malfoy could never match up to.

Currently Abraxas Malfoy and his wife were upstairs with a stranger and many other men and women. This was unfortunately not new, the stranger had came by at least once a week for the past few years that Scabior could remember being here, a dark haired stranger who was passed his teens, probably early thirties or his late twenties.

The stranger was referred to as 'My Lord' by Lucius, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, and the many others that had come by, including the Blacks, Lestranges, some of their children, some just as old as Scabior but he had never been permitted to meet this so-called lord. The stranger had always come wearing black robes and a dark hood, had once came with a black diary, many times wearing that same ring, his skin color was light and his eyes almost seeming red, evil, but it didn't take a look at his eyes just to know he was evil.

Evil truly was not a word Scabior would usually use but he could never think of another word for that appearance and aura. Dark wasn't the right word and that would usually be what Scabior would describe it as, he'd even given the stranger a nickname; Dark Lord. After a few times of seeing this stranger, in Scabior's head, he'd always referred to this man, before now, as the Dark Lord, but unfortunately he'd heard a witch call him the very same thing so it lost its appeal.

He himself was getting restless lying around thinking of this stranger who had come over too many times to be ignorable and seemed too important to be just no one, besides, if he was no one, why would so many people Abraxas was unacquainted with, come over so many times and why would he be called elsewhere by a stupid tattoo on his arm? This stranger, this Dark Lord, has never once addressed Scabior and much less, he had never looked at him or had interest in him but who had many times, even now, caught Scabior's attention and deathly curiosity. The one thing Scabior knew was normal about himself was that he was so desperately curious about everything and so willing to find out what he wanted through any method he needed to do so with.

That's what was growing inside of Scabior right now, a curiosity that could be bad for him, not that it wasn't before now, but this curiosity was making him restless, he wanted to know, and he made it so he _always_ got what he wanted, no matter what obstacles were in the way, he would diminish them and get his goal.

This man, this "Lord" was upstairs with the purebloods and halfbloods who worshipped him, the several hooded people who called themselves "Death Eaters" and in which included the Malfoys and he was merely lying around _thinking_ about this stranger.

The just fifteen year old was slightly disgusted with himself, not satisfying his curiosity when the chance had come many times so he stood and his eyes swept the room and scanned all windows and the doors before he went to the hallway where Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had lead the stranger, seeing the stairs clearly as if he were in front of them. Because they appeared closer to him than they were, Scabior put his hand out to test it and his hand was flat on a shield which felt slightly like rubber. He snarled his revulsion, glaring at the stairs he could see too easily.

They wanted to keep _him_ away from who had been taunting him for so long, absorbing his sanity to the point of annoyance? He thought not. Being an underage wizard, he really couldn't use magic out of school without the high possibility of expulsion but he knew two other ways. Inside this very room, there was a secret door even the Malfoys, being the owners of this manor, did not know existed. This secret door was hidden off to the side of the fireplace where a spell was cast by an ancient Malfoy housewife so no one would be able to pass through or find.

But Scabior was sneaky and he knew tricks, he had learned some things from a small few students at Hogwarts, Slytherin, who as well referred to themselves as "Death Eaters" and had said that they would later be bounty hunters for this curious Lord.

Scabior had been interested in this, he would prove himself better than them all without learning their tricks. It had taken two years but he had learned to create gaps or holes in protective spells and the shields cast by magic but he had done it. The intrusion was completely unique, learned and founded by he alone and he held pride, pride that would cause him to murder someone if they _dared_ steal it from him or claim it as their spell.

This was one of the ideas, the other would be to go through Abraxas Malfoy's shield but the spell had a chance of being broken and would hurt Scabior _and_ the wizard who cast the spell and he did have a _little _care for Abraxas Malfoy.

He opened the spell slowly and carefully, it was not literally a spell and required no wand, but he would never give up his wand to anybody he did not trust…and he trusted few, no one at school, no one at home, no one elsewhere and the little respect he did have for people was for the few who taught him something he found useful or interesting yet he still thought himself above everyone, making him a very sly, gifted, Slytherin.

Scabior smiled at his work as he found a gap, it took patience for sure and he had that, just not for many things. He checked the room again and went through the gap which snapped back in place when he was through it and he was in a bedroom.

After second year in which he'd learned the levitation charm, he'd found out that this bedroom was the grave for many men, a library full of death records and dark spells, and the only place the Malfoy housewife in the past had enjoyed. He knew this from reading the blood red diary lying on the pillow with a red feather and a tall skeleton wearing a very old-fashioned dress was and always had been, since her death, lying there, the skull on the pillow but never crumbling, a white-wood wand lying on the skeleton and dress under the hands that lie on the chest.

Her name was Roza Lilia Malfoy and she was obsessed with death and was held to be burned to death but she'd put it out and went back to her manor where she would eternally rest by having a serpent bite her and inject her with its poison. Scabior crossed the room, remembering the fun he'd had in this room when he was younger when Abraxas and his wife couldn't find him, but, a smile sneaking onto his face, he just passed to a door that was also hidden and found himself by a set of stairs, a door to his left, this one on the left being used very often.

Although young, Scabior was now very sneaky, dark, and intelligent, very sarcastic too, he gave his guardians a lot of trouble. They often threatened to curse him with the Cruciatus, or else to beat him til he bled but they'd only acted on that once. He could dodge anything, even death. That's what he kept saying to himself, he could dodge any spell, he was quick and agile and really did tick his guardians off by dodging so much that they were tired and stuck with grounding. Of course he didn't pride himself for nothing, he was sneaky enough that even grounding him never stopped him; when he wanted to do something or go somewhere, no matter why it was stated that he couldn't, he would do it. No one would stop him.

Scabior went up the stairs then into a hallway only lit by candles in brackets on the walls, the heavy carpeting muffling the sound of his heavy boots hitting the floor although it would have been quiet enough nonetheless. His senses became more alert as he saw a door with flickering lights coming from under the door and into the hall, like flames except white and green, voices, moans, and muffled yells coming from that very same room.

Moans of terror, moans that were trying to hold in screams, the yells seeming to be from angry people, not the fearful guests that were trying so hard not to scream when even Scabior knew it would be so much better for them to cry out. But there was a voice, one doing most of the yelling, it sounded male and almost snake-like, like he could breath…live forever, cold, dark, almost creepy, chill worthy but to ignorant Scabior, it sounded much like one who looked for respect through fear.

Scabior got slightly excited when a woman's fearful moan was heard, just feeling it in his gut that she was in pain; it made his heart race. Yes this was usual but excitement? He'd never felt that from hearing one in pain, he'd never liked it nor did he disapprove of it, he was msot often careless but now he seemed strangely happy.

'What 'as gotten into me?' Scabior thought, shaking the thoughts from his mind and as much of the feeling from his body, wishing against the moon and stars that he could be closer than this, that he could see what he was hearing.

But no, they did not answer his wish, nothing would but himself, but he just stuck with pressing his ear to the wall, his entire body against it, his eyes closed, as close to the door as he could be without being in front of it; that was sure to give him away. Frustrated though he was, he couldn't help but smile, pleased with himself, eavesdropping on this man that the Malfoys thought to be so powerful, so intelligent and knowing, but he was making this person out to be a fool, a fool that was possibly their lord only out of fear, nothing more, nothing less, cuz even he, Scabior, wasn't arrogant enough to think he could defeat a real wizard lord, a real man with real power and strength.

But Hell, what was real magic and real power, huh? He himself had it and he had confidence in them all, he was sure no one could defeat him and he was a great duelist, yet he would leave it until he had to do so. He could tell someone to do something and they would do it, Lucius, many students at school, both elder and younger than he, some adults he'd came across he'd intimidated, the Blacks would, they just weren't so quick to do so, and Severus Snape…well, Scabior never really bothered with Severus , maybe he was intelligent and a very good wizard but he got too much crap from James Potter and his friends and he really had no care to command someone who was too busy to do what was asked and Severus was obviously, to Scabior alone, to be a leader some day.

Thoughts left his mind and he was rather relaxed, listening in on the meeting, these wizards speaking of killing muggles and muggleborns, that half bloods would be killed as well but they could wait for a lot longer. He would not necessary go through the trouble of _killing_ muggles and mudbloods but he would still think purebloods were better than others but still, the idea of killing those who do not deserve to have magic in their blood, _that_ was tempting. People were a lot more interesting alive though, were they not because really, what would he get from a corpse?

On the other hand, it's not a like a muggleborn _meant_ to be born and it wasn't a half blood's fault that their parents had shagged or a squib's fault that they had no magic in them when they deserved it more than a mudblood. But they would be taught that it was okay to breed with muggles or mud bloods then they would do so and too many would exist. All three sides had a point but one and three won over two easily so his decision on the matter was made.

Decisions came quick to him, he was a fast-thinker, very clever and cunning, and he could move around any loophole and all those valuable, useful skills just so he could have fun…but fun was a great piece of his life, one he would never let go, he loved it and he loved to tease people, play with them and misguide them.

Scabior started humming very softly to himself without even realizing it, blocking the voices in the room without noticing at all but still no one was around and no one in the room was coming towards the door, he heard everything and easily so but he didn't hear the words, just the sound of talking, pacing, and even violent jerking.

His happiness was now changing as he heard the victim give up and really scream their feelings out, not hiding themselves but his desire also increased and made him wish even more that he was in that room with the others. Scabior never viewed himself as sadistic and even now he didn't think he was. Pain was just a beautiful thing to enjoy, not something that different from the sunset's beauty, the same sweet colors, the showing true self, a release of all the stress and true pain that was hidden within and a simple thing, a misunderstood thing, pain, was the art that excited him, not that it hurt so much but that was also what kicked the art up to divine.

Very darkly romantic Scabior was, seeing what others could not, challenging who others would never, putting words together so eerie and hypnotic, the fact that he didn't believe there was sadists or evil, all just beautiful art expressing what something truly is, what it was meant to be, and just how very fragile humans were.

No one could change his twisted mind, no one would stand up to him to do so, and even if one would dare, he would back that person down and play with the little toys he could make of them, the dark little mind he had.

Scabior tasted his lips and glanced down the hall quickly, rather pleased with this new feeling he had for the screams. No one else was in the hall and it sounded like no other person was approaching him at all, not even from the room. Sneaking around had adrenaline to it and he could not say he hated it but still it was mostly the power that he liked so much, spying on the unknowing, moving between those staring right at him; it was more power than the most powerful wizard had.

It'd been an hour and still there was nothing interesting going on, other than Scabior's ego in his head, the only amusement was that he hadn't been caught so far…and he wouldn't be, not by the so-called Lord in the room. He was going to have a good ride, really.


	2. Dance with the Devil: Curiosity

Minutes later after the long hour, Scabior heard very soft footsteps, almost silent like they were sneaking as he was but with his alert ears, he had heard and immediately turned away from the wall and he was facing another hooded figure who appeared to be walking to that same room many others were in, but this one was_very_ late.

Instead of black and almost death-like robes with a silvery mask, this person was wearing a really dark purple silk cloak, the sleeves in which covered the arms and hands, the hood which shrouded the new face, and the rest hiding whatever was worn underneath.

The person stopped and watched him and he, although he couldn't see the stranger's face, stared right back. The moments of silence were driving him crazy as his eyes took in the whole person again, bottom to top.

"Who're you?" he spat, glaring suspiciously.

The hooded person must've smiled or reacted somehow, he just knew it, but it was nothing he could see and he was sure the sleeves weren't long enough to have a wand hidden but even if it was, he was quick, he'd dodged a lot.

"Answer me!" Scabior ordered, his eyes narrowing.

The person's hand lifted up calmly but he jumped back and drew his wand so the other dropped their arm by their side again, passing him, looking straight at him until they opened the door and was gone, not saying a word to the Dark Lord by what he heard.

"Bloody 'ell," Scabior said, watching the door.

"Damn woman," he whispered to himself, his thoughts and words blocking the voices that came from the room.

Just for the moments he'd been around her, Scabior was sure it was a woman, probably older than himself too. What man would wear that color in _silk_ or really even that much of that color? What man would have almost an entire inch of fingernails painted red? What straight man would walk the way that person just had?

"Of course 'e might no' be straight," Scabior smirked to himself but he honestly didn't think that was likely.

'Who cares about some woman, she's probably just an attention whore?' he thought, rolling his eyes and he turned back to the wall to listen some more.

Scabior had taught himself to notice a lot of little things most people would overlook and now it came easily, with no conscious, he simply noticed because it was in his interest to do so and only because it was. It never really had been in his interest to notice this "Lord" but some things just made him curious, curiosity was a weakness, but those smaller things such as a woman, a gash across someone's face, a person crying by themselves, for example, just annoyed him because he had no care or interest in them yet would still see.

Then again, his curiosity had only kicked up about the "Dark Lord" because he was spoken about at school, mostly just among the Slytherins and some of them had foolishly branded themselves with what they all called the "Dark Mark" which he thought a stupid name and a stupid idea to mark oneself with their loyalty, no matter how proud.

However, even with his wicked brilliance and his information finding skills and interrogation that seemed innocent, no one would ever speak the name of this Lord, no matter how scared they were that Scabior would hurt them they seemed too afraid or awed to say the name, something Scabior got _so_ impatient with.

When you hit the spot, his temper could be murderous and every time their fear would lead them away from saying the name, they would get closer to seeing his true anger, not just that calm, sarcastic, coldness.

"Shut up," Scabior hissed to himself and he silenced his thoughts to listen in onto what they were saying again.

"This meeting is at an end, leave," a cold and commanding voice said, the voice of the "Lord" that the others were so afraid of, "Raine Lestrange, don't you dare leave, I need to speak with you and you will not leave this house until I do."

"Yes my Lord," an unfamiliar female's voice said.

As he heard dozens of footsteps, Scabior quickly left the hall and as quietly as he could, going all the way back to the living room, expecting many of the "Death Eaters" to come out the door but they all seemed to have apparated, yet he didn't stay to find that out.

"That fucking whore," someone said and Scabior quickly hid, seeing a blonde fourth year girl who had spoken to a darker haired fifth year who looked like she could be the darker version of the very proud-seeming blonde, both with skin as fair.

"I can't stand Rodolphus' cousin, we need to crucio her into telling us what is up with her and the Dark Lord," the darker one agreed spitefully.

"We know what's up, he trusts her more than he trusts you," the blonde said, opening the door to leave with her sister and their conversation faded.

'Bitches,' Scabior thought, going back into the room casually.

He knew both of them from school and both were sisters, as said, with the last name 'Black' a pureblood family, one was Narcissa and the other was Bellatrix and he knew they had a third sister in third year named Andromeda who seemed completely different, more sweet and kind and didn't seem a lot like a Slytherin sometimes.

"Hi," Lucius Malfoy, son of Scabior's guardians, said to Scabior.

Lucius looked rather sleepy and his platinum blonde hair was slightly messy, as if he'd just gotten out of bed and didn't even bother to comb his hair before meeting the Dark Lord with the rest of them.

"'ello fluffy," Scabior smirked.

They were like brothers who loved to pick on each other but Scabior just found happiness from bugging Lucius like that.

"I really should be saying the same to you," Lucius retorted, looking bored and tired.

"Scruffy maybe…but fluffy, ya kiddin me mate," Scabior said, "A cute little bunny rabbit you would make, eh Lucius?"

"I can't understand a word you're saying," Lucius lied.

"Rubbish pumpkin 'ead, you just don't like admitting I piss you off do ya?" Scabior smirked, "I think I'll stick with that."

"Just leave me alone, I'm not in the mood for this," Lucius growled.

"I am," Scabior retorted happily, yanking some of Lucius long-ish hair but not quite hard enough to pull any out.

"Scabior!" Lucius snapped, not liking that one bit.

"Ya?"

"Be nice, he only had four hours of sleep before having to get up again, something you, Scabior, would not understand," Abraxas Malfoy said, walking back into the room to join his son and Mrs. Malfoy was with him, also blonde but her hair was darker.

These two were Scabior's guardians and he hated it a little more than he really should but he dealt with it because it was also somewhat fun.

"Will I ever get to meet this "Lord" of yours?" Scabior asked carelessly.

"Not yet," Mrs. Malfoy said firmly.

"But Lucius gets to, every time you do he sees 'im, I know it," Scabior said coldly but he really didn't care.

He could easily 'run into' this "Lord" and meet him all on his own with his own skills but he had to try the easy way first because it'd use less time and he wouldn't have to plan it but his career interest had many obstacles where he'd most definitely have to use the hard way.

"Lucius is seventeen unlike you young man," Abraxas replied coldly, "Now go get ready for bed, brush your teeth, brush your hair, it's a mess, and sleep."

"Can you at least tell me your Lord's name?" Scabior asked crossly, his heart thumping in hope that he'd find that out finally.

That didn't happen.

"Now!" Mr. Malfoy said firmly.

Scabior sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes and glaring and he walked up to the room he was given to stay in whilst he was here, swearing in his head the whole way up, not liking being younger cuz it was torture…no it was better, it was murder.

Although it was one of the smallest rooms in the entire manor, the room was rather large, too clean for Scabior's liking, too sophisticated too but it was better than an orphanage with a bunch of stinky muggle kids but he was thankful for the luxuries of a hot shower or bath, no matter how many days he could go without one.

The showers was actually one thing he felt that he couldn't live without, he could survive on his own without anything else but he wanted the showers and baths cuz they made him feel good and the feeling of being clean was nice once in a while.

This "Lord" that everyone kept talking about was actually the one who had told the Malfoys to go get him, knowing he was pureblood and a wizard and that was the only reason he was here so Scabior was to be thankful to a face he didn't know.

It bugged him, he did not like the whole thankful thing anyhow, yes he was happy to be alive but to be forced into thankfulness, let alone to someone or something he'd never known just wasn't something he was fond of.

Scabior took a long, hot bath before getting ready for bed and he slept in the comfortable, large bed, doing as much as he could to keep his mind away from the "Lord" so many had spoken about and to keep his mind away from annoyance before he slept.


	3. Dance with the Devil: Issues

Scabior, mum says to get up right now!" he half-sleepily heard Lucius call through the door, three pounds on the door.

"Alrigh' 'm up," Scabior answered, closing his eyes again and burying his face in the pillows and under the covers. Scabior smiled to himself, thinking he would sleep longer in peace as he had done many other mornings that he'd gotten into trouble.

"She said not to leave until you answer the door," Lucius told him, still from the other side of the locked.

"'ello door, I said 'm up, go away," Scabior said, throwing the blankets off him and half off the bed as well and he got up, putting a pair of pants on and he went to the door and sleepily unlocked it before going back to his bed and lying down stubbornly.

Lucius opened the door and entered with a smirk on his pale face. The smile annoyed Scabior even further than the snobbish prefect itself…er himself but it was something he couldn't get rid ...not now at that rate.

"What're you looking at?" Scabior asked, eyeing Lucius who simply replied, "You." "Ya see somethin' you like?" Scabior said coldly, taking a brush through his hair a couple times before tying it in a ponytail that went down to his shoulders.

"You're twisted Scabior, get up, mum says now," Lucius said, rolling his eyes at the fifteen year old's immaturity.

"Now yer flatterin' me Lucius," Scabior sneered, "I say get out now."

"Get up," Lucius said, grabbing Scabior's arm tightly and trying to literally pull him out of the bed but Scabior remained. Scabior had a good build for a fifteen year old boy and wasn't as scrawny as he used to be nor was he really bough and Lucius was so kind to remind him.

"Get your 'and off me," Scabior said, getting out of bed again and pointing his wand at Lucius' heart but Lucius was unafraid.

"You'll be expelled," Lucius said, smiling.

"Not if I'm practicing a spell for 'omework," Scabior retorted, "You should know more of m' ability than anybody Lucius." Scabior stared Lucius down, taking minutes and Lucius released his arm and went back to the door, glaring back at Scabior's smirking face, and Lucius left, a little angry and humiliated but he was also relieved no one but the two had witnessed it.

"If you want to eat before we go to Diagon Alley, get downstairs now," Mrs. Malfoy said firmly at his door in passing and she left him to it. Scabior found a black shirt and quickly buttoned it up the front and pulled a very dark purple-brown leather jacket over that without tucking the shirt in but the jacket was long enough to cover the three inches below his waist that the shirt stuck.

He pulled his boots on, stumbling out the door, closed and locked it and he went downstairs but breakfast was already off the table. Scabior was very hungry and couldn't imagine going to Diagon Alley with his stomach aching in hunger.

"Lili," he called and a very old female houself popped up with a pop and she bowed low to him, her bright blue eyes looking up at him as her nose came off the floor.

"Get me somethin' quick to eat," he ordered and so, bowing again, Lili disappeared and came back seconds later with a bacon sandwich on a tray and a tall cup of milk so he ate the sandwich and chugged the milk in the same amount of time he was given.

Lucius came down with his parents soon after and Mr. Malfoy grasped Scabior's arm more tightly than Lucius had and they all apparated to Diagon Alley in front of Flourish and Blotts bookstore which had opened quite recently.

"Get your things, stick together, look for us in an hour," Mrs. Malfoy said, dropping a pouch of gold galleons in each of their hands.

"Yes mum," Lucius nodded and he walked away with Scabior who was practically leading Lucius from next to him, into the bookstore.

"Mummy's little boy, aren't ye?" Scabior sneered, pushing a third year boy away from the door and they went to the back of the shop.

"What do you mean by that?" Lucius asked coldly, taking a book off its shelf and he looked at it even though it didn't have any titles that he was looking for.

"Nothing, nothing, just that she favors you, I'm almost surprised she doesn't call you 'Lucy' but then you'd be 'er little girl," Scabior replied, a smirk staining his face, enjoying taunting him so much and the reactions…the reactions he could smile forever for.

"She doesn't favor me," Lucius muttered, "You're just a sarcastic little bastard and she doesn't care to get in your way."

"Yer still flatterin me Lucius, I might blush," Scabior sarcastically said, giving Lucius a thump in the back.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," someone behind him said and he turned around to see a fifth year girl from school with 'Hexes and Jinxes' in her arms and when he turned around her pale blue eyes were almost penetrating. Her hair was light blonde, wavy/straight, and all the way down to her waist, her bangs were layered and covered most of one eye, blue, purple, red, and orange streaks were in them with a perfect brightness to it as if magic was used, she had pale, gold-ish skin and was 5.9 and her nails were a sapphire blue color at the moment.

"What do you want mudblood?" Lucius asked coldly before Scabior could give a sarcastic reply which irked his style a bit.

"You guys are getting boring, seriously, is that the worst you can come up with?" the girl asked, smirking, "Oh Scabior, I found a wicked spell to use on you and your boyfriend Lucius Malfoy, you'll be scared into running. Brilliant, yeah?"

"Yeah?" Scabior challenged, "I know a 'ex that could make ya run screamin."

"I love the way ya say 'ex instead of hex," the girl smirked, "See you at school you two." She walked away, her emo/scene hair very slightly brushing against Scabior's face, on purpose of course just because she knew it'd annoy him.

"I was 'aving a perfectly good talk with that girl before you 'ad to go an call 'er mudblood," Scabior said crossly to Lucius who raised his eyebrow.

"That's all she is and you shouldn't be socializing with rubbish like that," Lucius said coldly, "Your parents would be soo disappointed."

"I can talk to anyone I like Lucius, even that bleeding mudblood Ravenclaw," Scabior said, a look of deep annoyance on his countenance.

"Why does it matter to you, do youfancy that damned mudblood?" Lucius demanded, shutting the book in his hand really hard.

"Not if me life depended on it," Scabior retorted, a look of disgust on his face, "I would never touch that.

"Glad to know you're not," Lucius said firmly, "Get your books."/p

Later they were in a store where they would buy robes and they were browsing together, Scabior trying to find the shabbiest ones with style and Lucius trying to find the best and they both found just that and quite quickly so they went to a Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"'ey Lucius?" Scabior said, checking out the new brooms and accessories.

"I have a cleansweep," Lucius drawled, barely glancing at what Scabior was looking at but Scabior rolled his eyes.

"Noo, I was goin' to say, I 'ave decided to put a streak in my 'air," Scabior said impatiently as if he expected Lucius to care.

"Why?" Lucius asked, "You like looking like a girl?"

"Because I like colors," Scabior said as if that were the most obvious thing in the world, "I can't decide on a color.

"Do yellow or pink, that'll perfectly match," Lucius snorted.

"Yellow would make my 'air look like dung," Scabior glared, "Let's turn your 'air bright green and keep it that way.

"Touch my 'air and you will die in 'ell," Lucius retorted, glaring.

"Are you mocking th' way I talk?" Scabior demanded, "Or is 'ell some sweet slappe' you messed with last night?"

"If I was mocking the way you talk, I'd be less understandable," Lucius told him, glaring back at the incessant pain.

"You just won't admit it cuz you're scared of me," Scabior. He liked his accent and he wasn't gonna take it from anyone, not even if they were telling him that they loved it too, not playful teasing, he just wouldn't, it wasn't an insult but he didn't wanna lose his leadership that he learned.

"I'm not scared of you, I am prefect and I am older and quicker than you are," Lucius said coldly and slightly.

"I don't think yer quicker Lucius," Scabior told him and maybe he was right; Lucius was the stronger but not quicker.

"To be a leader you have to earn respect, to be a leader you must respect what your followers can do. It works just like a pack Scabior, the followers and leaders are all a team and will not work if they are against each other because the leader is being arrogant enough to think he can run a pack off of fear or abuse, leadership is not fear, it does not form from disrespect for the others, the leader is equal with the others but with more power," Lucius said icily, looking into Scabior's eyes, admiring the determination of his adopted brother but sick of his arrogance and ignorance, "They will all need each other in the end, you will need someone in the end."

"You aren't th worst person in the world," Scabior stated, running his hand over a cleansweep 7 that he wasn't necessarily supposed to be touching.

"Besides, true leadership can help get the ladies," Lucius smirked as he saw from the corner of his eye, a girl smile at him, a girl from the Slytherin Quidditch team that attended Hogwarts and was in sixth.

"I bet," Scabior said to himself, barely just getting away from thinking about that fourth year Ravenclaw mudblood, "I can't believe someone so skilled at Occlumency can't stop 'is own thoughts from gettin' bothersome."

"Who are you referring to?" Lucius asked curiously as they went to the door together and they left to find Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.

"'ts not your business," Scabior said, spotting them. "There they are Lucius." Lucius saw their turned backs and started going straight for them.

"We could stop an get something' to eat," Scabior said impatiently but Lucius paid no mind to him so Scabior stopped to get an ice cream before hurrying to catch up with Lucius and, Abraxas holding tightly to both of them, they disapparated back to Malfoy Manor.


	4. Dance with the Devil: Change

Most of the day passed with no excitement but Scabior practiced his stealth and agility, probably the only exercises that made him so thin besides his crazy metabolism he wished he did not have; he was such a bean pole. Showing off to himself was always fun because he never got cocky, he was very confident in himself, and if he were showing off to someone else, it would contradict what he was showing off. He had not packed anything but a couple of books since last week and Lucius had his all done so he, as far as Scabior knew, took a fit girl out on a date.

He noticed the time as he eased back onto his bed, stretching his back out until it cracked and he enjoyed the cool air on his bare stomach, his shirt having lifted in the stretch but, sooner or later Abraxas would come in demanding he tuck in his shirt and get packed. Scabior thought he should pack anyhow, seeing all the time he killed so he threw things haphazardly into his trunk and put on the too-large brown/purple leather jacket, the last of his father's belongings, and shoved his wand into the pocket for using.

He had taken so long that Mrs. Malfoy was really annoyed with him and she kept passing his room on and off, sick of his on-and-off habits because he really did seem like he wanted to take as long as he could get away with and it, to her, seemed

"Are you packed Scabior?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, stopping at his open door.

"No," Scabior answered though he was, lying lazily on his bed, his eyes closed in peace but a smirk on his face.

"I'm sorry to say but I don't think your parents would be very proud of you," Mrs. Malfoy said, grimacing and entering the room, "You're so rude and ungrateful, sarcastic all the time, you sneak around like vermin all the time.

"Yeah?" Scabior said coldly, "Well they dead, aren't they so I don't need to worry then, do I? It don't matter 'oo is proud of me."

"How do you get through life with no praise or admiration Scabior?" she demanded, "You have no lady friends because of it and the only people you attract are vermin.

"I 'ave a lady friend and girls love me, I jus' don' care," he retorted, barely seeing Lucius pass then go back to watch them; no one could get anything passed him. Ok, they probably could but in his presence, it was very hard to do so. He was annoyed by the fact that they were enemies and brothers at the same time but he also enjoyed the relationship but now was not the time to see anyone.

"So you're throwing your entire life away just because you don't care?" Mrs. Malfoy asked coldly with her hands on her hips.

He glared. "I am not throwin' my life away woman, just cuz I not bowin to some freak lord doesn't mean I throw my life away, at leas' I do things for myself and get something' from it and I do 'ave ambitions," Scabior argued almost calmly but that was enough for her.

"Lights out young man," she said, flaring up at once, "I do expect very different from you this year and I better see it." She left just as Lucius hid. The door slammed shut with force enough to break it if it were not magical and it did so before Lucius could come and ask what that was about but still he knocked, brassing Scabior off further and that was not something advised to do because he was so rash in these times.

"You 'ave something to add to that?" Scabior demanded, opening the curtain as Lucius opened the door.

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay," Lucius said with a smile, "You are, after all, kinda my little brother."

"Ain't that amazing?" Scabior said in the most sarcastic tone he had which dripped heavily in venom but he was closer to Lucius than anyone else he knew.

"Those who anger you have power over you," Lucius said softly, "Don't forget it."

"Yer right," Scabior sighed and he shut the door in Lucius' face but Lucius had plenty of time to pull away. He thought of Mrs. Malfoy and her cliché favoring, the favoring of her true son but instead of hate filling him, a smile slipped onto his face, almost psychotic, mostly evil, but either way, he was pleased with himself and up to no good.

"You'll definitely get somethin new this year," he said quietly, thinking of Mrs. Malfoy still but staring at the half nude witch poster on his wall, the poster which he was so bored with and had been for a while. He was annoyed at the false smiling and moving around trying to impress him because it all seemed fake and reminded him of those cheap slappers dancing in London's clubs.

Scabior suddenly got up and tore it down and threw it in the fireplace to let it burn. Growing up was the most obnoxious thing he had ever done and this fifth year was going to be good for him, he thought. "She thinks she 'as power over me, she 'as that mixed up," he said to himself, getting into bed after changing into nightclothes and he slept after less than an hour of thinking, no longer angry, just calm and perfectly happy again.

"Hurry up, we're leaving here shortly," Abraxas said, knocking loudly and Scabior woke up and got out of bed, quickly, startled that he had slept so late.

"Are you awake?" Abraxas said loudly only moments later.

"What got yer knickers tied up? 'm up already," Scabior said impatiently, pulling a pair of pants on and he took his nightshirt off, replacing it with a dress shirt.

"Hurry up, it's ten o clock already," Abraxas said, sounding stressed, and his footsteps came again and were gone.

"Blimey," Scabior said, putting his boots on, "By the way they go, we might as well be late and stuck 'ere." He managed to get dressed within five minutes, barely grabbing his jacket with his wand in the pocket and he pulled his trunk down the stairs instead of taking a second to call the house elf and they all apparated to King's Cross.

"Hi Scabior," a Ravenclaw girl giggled, waving. He refused to reply even though Mrs. Malfoy smiled encouragingly; that disappointed her. Girls were actually fairly fond of him, even some Gryffindor girls but they would not say it to his face because he was in Slytherin; Adarte Starr, the same Ravenclaw girl he had met in Flourish and Blott's, was the only girl he was absolutely sure did not have a crush on him although they seemed to be like friend enemies. Both of them were happy with that too.

"Bye," Scabior muttered, happy that he was free from them and he left to go to the train before they could object.

"Hey Scabior," he heard another girls' voice behind him and he felt someone jerk his ponytail a little too hard. There was only one person who would dare to do that while sober and that was Adarte Starr; that was how they had met and she had not quite given it up; it was alright though.

"Why're you 'ere?" he groaned like he did every year he saw her, looking into her pale blue eyes which had more mascara and eyeliner than usual. He really did not like her eyes because they were so magnetic it made him hurt when she hurt and he had no empathy for anybody else; her eyes were even more evil than the one his family called 'the Dark Lord'.

"I may be brilliant but even I need to learn," she smirked, "You don't seem to object to me pulling your hair as much as you used to."

"Are ye kiddin me?" he asked, raising his eyebrow in that attractive way he did. "I 'ave tried everythin I can think of to make you stop doin tha' to me love. I figure I can get close enough to get ya back." He pulled her hair too but she smiled about it and said, "Do it again."

"Shut it ye mudblood," he snapped.

"Keep talking," she said and he looked confused.

"What do ya mean keep talking?" he asked suspiciously.

"I love your accent, your words are almost ignorable," Adarte told him, poking his belly and she turned around and went to the train with a gaggle of boys and girls she always hung out with, also in fifth year.

"God I 'ate that girl," Scabior snarled to himself. He waited for Lucius for a while but saw Lucius go on the train with a few of his friends and surrounded by girls so he went onto the train all by himself, rolling his eyes and dragging his heavy trunk with him without an issue.

"'ey Macnair?" Scabior said, hitting a boy's shoulder slightly hard; The bloke turned and asked, "Alright?"

"Give me a color that would looks good in my 'air," Scabior ordered.

"What're you, a girl?" one of the guys said and he gave him a dangerous look.

"Uum, purple," Macnair said, shrugging carelessly.

"Why purple mate, why?" Scabior said unhappily, "Jus' cuz you know I 'ate it?"

"I dunno," he grunted, "It matches your personality."

"Bueno Scario," Scabior said irately and Macnair was suddenly running the opposite direction, screaming like a small child.

"Scaring charm," he smirked. "Can I test it on ye?" The other boy in the compartment shook his head.

He poked his head in a random compartment, intent on finding a color for the streak he wanted to put in his hair and determined to do enough socializing to make up for the fact that he wanted nothing to do with people on his first Monday back at school.

"Anyone got a mirror?" he asked but he snatched one out of a girl's hand, "Thank you, it'll only be a minute." He looked in the mirror intently, staring himself down before handing it back to the blushing girl who was giggling to her friend.

"What's yer favorite color love?" he asked the girl he'd taken the mirror from.

"Lilac," she smiled, "Why?"

"Why lilac, I 'ate purple?" Scabior said, "'ow bout you pretty?" He looked at the girls' companion.

"Magenta," she said coolly, unimpressed with her friend's interest in blokes like him. He left, a sour look on his face.

"That doesn't even count as a color!" he snarled furiously to himself, "Anyone 'ave a color I might like?" Scabior pretty much spent the whole train ride either eating or asking people for a color but no one who actually said a color he was okay with, which was a lot, could not give him a good idea why he'd put a streak in his hair of that color.

He really wanted to do it though so he would have to find a color all on his own with meaning to himself but other people at least having an opinion could. He did not even bother to ask Adarte who was in a compartment with five boys from different houses and a girl from Hufflepuff. But after asking Severus, who said black, the next compartment he poked his head in was hers.

He looked at all the boys, each in turn, daring them to kick him out but they just sat nonchalantly, watching him and waiting for him to say something. "Lost?" Adarte finally said tauntingly but she smiled genuinely all the same.

"No 'm not bloody lost on a train! I'm looking for something," he said grumpily, "At leas' tell me you don't like magenta though."

"Uh, no I don't actually, I mean, does it technically count as a color at all? I prefer purer colors. If that's all, you can leave now," she said. "Or really, you can leave whenever you feel up to it."

The Hufflepuffs laughed even though she did not mean it in the way they thought she did; she was subtly saying 'stay if you want, go, go'. "Going is preferable," a Hufflepuff girl said hotly.

"No i's not all, do ye know why yer favorite color is yer favorite?" Scabior asked, glaring at her and ignoring her invitation.

"Of course."

"That's what I bloody thought…wai', what?" he said, not surprised but feeling a bit like a fool.

"Get out now," the Hufflepuff girl said, pushing him out and closing the compartment door in his face.

"You just want me," Scabior said to the girl, opening the compartment door again just to close it again and leave.

"He is such a git," the girl said loudly enough for him to hear.

"Don't flatter me love. I'm blushing almost," he called back. Scabior really had no idea how much she fancied him if she did at all but he also cared nothing for her nor her opinion of him and if she was so bound to insult him, he might as well point out how affectionate having feelings for him at all.

"Wait, if she knows 'er favorite color, I should ask 'er," Scabior said, glancing over his shoulder, distracted but he shrugged and continued on.

The train pulled into Hogsmeade station at long last and, feeling restless, Scabior left quickly and went to find the thestral-drawn carriages. He had been able to see them ever since he was born because he had seen his mother die, nothing really traumatizing at the time as he hadn't understood what was going on but imagine his surprise ten years later when he saw a thestral grazing outside the Malfoy's manor. He worried nothing of his luggage, knowing by now that it would end up in his dungeon room and he visited with a thestral.

To him, they were very sweet creatures and very misunderstood. Thestrals were even more peaceful and powerful than horses even in all their rot and decay. He ran alongside them, walking and ended up there only a couple minutes beforehand. Still, in his attempt to catch his breath, they had to catch up and students were coming out, the first years going by boat, probably already there.


	5. Dance with the Devil: Infatuation

Scabior took a deep breath and released the caged air, looking around for his group of minions; they were also Lucius' minions but he, Scabior, had the credit for the majority. He really was not bragging that time because Lucius had always taken his time to inflict the others with fear and also decided using a bit of respect would be alright too; really though, half the Slytherins needed not respect whom they followed.

Now there were first years being sorted into the 'hex' group and the 'minions' group. There was the 'others' category but very few belonged there in his eyes. Adarte belonged to that category and sometimes Lucius did too because those were the only two people he ever really cared about passed the "normal". It was not blood with him like it was with the Slytherins; it was whom he personally had some respect for.

There was a special person who belonged n both the hex and minion group and her name was Johanna Wilson who was a Slytherin for her third year running and she drove Scabior mad. She did have hold and had authority over most the Slytherins but Scabior was never one of those pathetic puppets. He did not like her methods either, neither like Lucius nor himself and he did not like the idea that she was obsessed with him and attempting to manipulate him at the same time although he did the same to others.

"Scabior!" she squealed, squeezing between a tall boy and Scabior, both who wanted so bad to hex Johanna. "Did you have a good summer? How are you? Did you hear about the new broom? Like oh my god I am so excited! I bet nobody has it and I just ordered one the other day! Guess what? Over the summer, the Hollyhead Harpies asked me to show them my skills and they like, loved me. I had dinner with them and my family so maybe I have something better to do when I leave..." and her rambling kept going on and on until Scabior got sick and left. Or not.

"Are you ok?" she asked in absolute distress, running after the subject of her obsession.

"I need some air," Scabior growled.

"I will come with you and make sure you are ok. Oh my god, I will so take care of you!" This seemed more like excitement than concern to him but he wanted nothing more than to leave her in a pit of snakes. Not that killing was in his forte or interest; people really were not very interesting dead but just the idea made him smile. Unfortunately, Johanna took this as approval.

"Stop bugging the poor bloke Wilson," a friendly, familiar voice said which infuriated Scabior. He needed no one to stand up for him especially with the wide range of curses he knew. He most definitely did not need a mudblood who wasn't even in Slytherin doing it. He wanted to thank her and take her throat out at the same time.

"Serpentsortia!" he said angrily and a black cobra bung across to Johanna but it seemed to like Adarte more, more like it was willing to attack her as it was hissing and slithering towards her.

"Ha! He doesn't need your help," Johanna sneered, "Go back to the Great Hall where you belong mudblood before you get yourself killed or something."

"You don't get to call me mudblood, Wilson. You're blood is worth as much as mine...maybe less," Adarte retorted.

Scabior's eyes went wide but only because the snake was not intended for Adarte but she was backing off calmly, watching the snake closely but not staring either. How could such a short-tempered girl be so calm? It may not be seen often but Adarte was very fiery and he was surprised she was not in Gryffindor. Really, everyone was so surprised she wasn't, as much as she stood up for Snape and others.

"Calm down. I do not want to hurt you," Adarte said softly to the snake as she was backed into the wall. She slowly, watching the snake, crouched down to its level then slowly sat, crossing her legs in a passive state.

The snake advanced but then slithered away fast. Adarte sighed in relief, a breath Scabior did not know she had been holding. She stood again, a hand over her heart as if it had been racing. He knew she had always been good with animals, deer, unicorns, dragons, you name it and they either loved her or would leave her alone if she did the same to them; she had that sort of heart.

'Wow,' Scabior thought, 'Starr's not fearless, she is good at acting.'

"Seriously? Serpentsortia? I was getting this slapper off your back! What the bloody hell was that for?" now was apparently her time to get angry. He tried telling her the snake was intended for Johanna but she would not have it, the fire coming from her numbing his words in his throat and he felt bad. Since when did he, Scabior, feel bad? This girl was revolting what with her knack for inspiring emotion, especially the way her eyes changed with every emotion she felt and all the passion she had about everything.

Johanna saved him from further looking like a fool by hissing, "Sentrevokaout!" An invisible force hit Adarte in the diaphragm and knocked the air out of her so she fell onto her hands and knees, forcing herself to breath. Scabior felt like he would rather have been made a fool than to have Johanna Wilson protect him and he was infuriated. Adarte's wand was soon in hand and without words, she waved her wand and all of Johanna's limbs snapped together, paralyzed. Adarte stood up, still taking ragged breaths but breathing all the same.

Adarte glared at Scabior before walking away. Yes, like he said, a fire. Before she could fully leave, professor Merrythought came around the corner and crossed her arms.

"What happened miss Starr?" She did not favor Adarte at all but she always trusted her to be honest which, Scabior thought, is the most despicable, admirable thing Adarte is: honest.

"I saw Wilson bugging Scabior so I left to casually help him out so they wouldn't curse one another but then he threw a snake at me. I got rid of it but then Wilson used a spell to knock the breath out of me. I do not know a lot of self-defense spells I know how to use nonverbally so I paralyzed her," Adarte explained, calming herself down, still breathing somewhat oddly.

"Very well," said professor Merrythought. "Ten points from Ravenclaw. You are supposed to be working on your temper miss Starr, I am so disappointed in you. As for you two, you should not have been attacking miss Starr at all. Twenty points from Slytherin...each. I would agree that this fight will not continue, correct?" She gave them an uncharacteristically strict look and walked away, unparalyzing Johanna so casually Scabior thought she deserved it.

Adarte was far better than she had once been though so he thought the muggle studies professor had no right to take points from her for self-defense. Scabior remembered the days where she would cast a spell right off the bat whether it worked or not, and if it didn't, she did not mind showing everyone that she knew how to fight like a muggle; she may possibly had just as many detentions as Potter and Black together in those first two years.

"Come on Scabior, before she starts anything," Johanna said, coldly looking back at Adarte.

Adarte never started anything though, no matter how many times she ended it and when she did start something, it was never something they could get in trouble for. He also wanted nothing to do with Johanna so he said, "I'll see you in the commons later."

This lit Johanna's face up and she happily skipped away, thinking of how best to make him want to kiss her, plannng the night before she even knew what he wanted.

"Ciao," Adarte said, nodding slightly and she left too.

"I'm sorry ye know!" he called after her and he was never sorry but this is not the way he planned it, playing with that mudblood; Johanna was going to pay dearly.

Adarte slightly smiled but he did not see and she continued on her way to the Ravenclaw dormitories.

Scabior also went to his house dungeons and he stayed there, waiting for Johanna who came down in a tank top and silk pajama pants, her mousy but pretty brown hair in a braid.

"Ye know, I was gonna play with tha' mudblood on my own, without ye. I had a plan," Scabior said icily as she sat next to him. "I got nothin' from th' stunt ye pulled."

"Scabior, I-I thought y-you'd be happy. I put the mudblood i-in her place, on the f-i floor at your f-feet," Johanna said, so terrified and upset that she had not pleased the subject of her obsessions, tears rolling from her brown eyes.

"Ye think ye can make me 'appy? Scabior, an independent bloke 'oo wants te make 'is own enemies suffer, 'appy?" Are ye mad girl? I want no one doin' nothin' for me, got it?" Scabior said furiously.

"I understand, your reputation and everything. I am so sorry. Can I do anything for you to make it up?" she tried so hard not to cry as she said it, swearing in her mind to do anything that would please him, anything that would make him want her.

"Not righ' now. I need te sleep," he said coldly but pleased with himself for making the infamous Johanna Wilson cringe and beg for something.

He did go to bed happy and he slept well so he also woke up happy. Damn it was good to be back in Hogwarts where he had more freedom but not as much as he would have when he left. He could not wait to leave. Freedom. That was all he ever needed and all he ever wanted, not love or glory, not a friend from an unlikely source, not the dislike for many people he knew, just simple freedom. Leading a pack of Snatchers or mercenaries to have wizards and witches sent to Azkaban without being bound by rule.


	6. Dance with the Devil: Two Dreams

Dance with the Devil

"Thank you Starr," he said under his breath to her during their first potion lesson.

"For what? You chopped the hertweeds," she answered easily, glancing at him; those eyes were getting bothersome to him.

"Getting Jo'anna off my back," he told her, looking down and carefully cutting up the shrew beads.

"No problem sweet cheeks," she answered, smirking.

"I wish ye wouldn' say that," he said not so cheerfully.

"I know it!" she heated the pot with the wave of her wand, "Seriously though, we're okay. Don't worry about it."

"We're neve' okay," he seriously said, taking his turn to smirk at her and she rolled her eyes, smiling.

"Hey, so about that Slytherin slapper, when did you two start falling head over tits in love with each other?" Adarte teased, manipulating the new rumor of the school. "I mean, she is dead beautiful but her personality is...dead."

"Ye shut it. I don't even look at 'er, yeah?" Scabior coldly said, not taking it as a joke even though he recognized it to be.

"But you are always going googly eyes over each other, all that hanky panky going on in there. I see it," she persisted, grinning.

"Did ye seriously jus' say 'anky panky?" he asked, grimacing.

"Did you seriously just tell me to shut it?" she asked, cocking her hip but tending to the potion all the same.

"Fair," he murmured.

"So why so bitter?" she asked.

"Ye didn' put any sugar in it and if ye do, I damn well hope you drink it and not me. It could kill ye," he answered.

"That's not what I...hey, you wouldn't mind me dying from a potion we made? You're really that cold?" she said, throwing spare willow twigs at him playfully.

"I would mind cuz then I couldn' make you so 'ot," he smirked evilly.

"Well if ye like me bein' so 'ot then-" she started but he nudged her so she would notice that professor Slughorn was walking their way.

"I'm sure we could get out of another fight unscathed," she whispered tauntingly to him and she looked like she would do it.

"Ye are impossible Starr," he sighed in his accent.

"Sure am. Did you want help with your paper tonight?" she asked casually as Slughorn came close enough what they said would be audible.

"Yeah, definitely. I get 'elp from mudbloods daily," he sarcastically said.

"Now Mr..." Slughorn said but Adarte chuckled and said, "It's okay professor. These guys really need to think of a better comeback. You know how old 'mudblood' is? Also, I am proud of all the dirty blood in all my dirty little veins." She smiled, "Why get offended for it?"

"Regardless of your personal feelings about it Ms. Starr, no uncouthe language is permitted in my classroom during class time," professor Slughorn answered, obviously still upset over what had just been said.

"Ah well...anyways, about the paper Scabior?" she said, looking back at the boy who was much taller than before but not quite as tall as she thought he would get to be.

"Yeah, we could give it a shot," he said, nodding, "Over my dead body."

"I will arrange it then. Meet me in the library," she said as Slughorn walked away with a small chuckle.

"Dungeons," he countered, "I am not goin in the middle of everyone with a mudblood no matter yer inability ta be offended by me."

"Fine, the dungeons, whatever," she said, rolling her eyes and pouring their potion into a tiny vial provided. He smirked clear up until the bell ring and he collected all his things and left the classroom without her.

"Starr, a moment please," professor Slughorn said. She looked worriedly at the clock but then set her bag back down and waited. "I know you mean well trying to change him but don't get yourself hurt. He really does believe all that blood rubbish."

"I am NOT trying to change him professor, I like him just the way he is. He does not believe all that blood stuff, he just has fun with it and seriously, he isn't the most desirable bloke in the world but at least he has passion and understanding," Adarte crossly said. "Is that everything professor?"

"You're just like Lily," he laughed, "Yes there is. I wanted to tell you that your final exam paper was just absolutely brilliant. The ministry is really looking into it now, said it could be a real break through. They are willing to give you enough galleons for in the field healing training."

"Are you for real?" she asked, her blue eyes going wide.

"Completely," he smiled, handing her a signed parchment from the Minister of Magic, just as authentic as could be. She took it, her other hand over her mouth, complete shock taking over her body.

"Th-thank you," she whispered the words she could manage and she left, closing the door behind her and she sat next to that door against the wall, staring at the parchment and the shiny beetle black ink.

"About time. What were ya doin in there?" Scabior said, coming out from behind a suit of armor, smirking. She barely registered what he said but said nothing, looking at him then back at the paper. He snatched it from her, frowning now because she was acting so strange to him.

"I, Minister of Magic, grant Adarte Amethysia Starr full payment in St. Mungo's most prominent healer's school and labratories for four consecutive years. All twelve governors have signed and now I sign my name...whatever the hell those squiggles say, minister of magic," he read aloud, "What's yer problem?"

"I-I don't know I..it just...I don't know if I...oh my god Scabior, this changes everything I've been working on," she told him, still unable to put words and thoughts together at the same time.

"Accept it, tha's always been what you've wanted to do, am I righ?" he told her, sitting next to her, not intending to go to charms at all.

"Yeah," she practically whispered, "It was...is...but I-I've just been-"

"Bu nothin Starr," he said impatiently, lifting her chin so she would look into his eyes; he was then reminded that he hated her eyes and looked away, taking his hands to himself and staring at the opposite wall. "You 'ave nothin to worry about love, you'll do brilliantly, just no buts, okay."

"It doesn't add up," she finally managed, taking a deep breath.

"Yer exam was brilliant Starr, why so surprised?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow and looking at her again. She smiled, just liking the way he looked in that superior but not quite condescending look on his face.

"I'm not...surprised, I just don't know if...you know...I want to be fixing bleeding people for the rest of my life," she said kind of shyly.

"Love, just las' year ya were sayin how you wanted to cure death and heal people," he said in exasperation. "Honestly, when yer said tha' in first year, I liked you a bit more than I would 'ave in the first place. Ya can cure my death." He grinned.

"And maybe I would," she shrugged, "But, I don't know...I want a job more...I don't want to say alive...it fits though!"

"Curing death is alive," he said fairly.

"What do you want to do?" she asked him, biting her lip.

"You know I dunno Starr." His bad boy agitation was back again as he rolled his eyes, tired of trying to comfort the uncomfortable. "I wanna be a mercenary of sorts I suppose. Catch and interrogate withou 'aving the rules of the bloody ministry on me."

"See, that is alive, that is exciting, I don't like rules either, you know that, Merlin knows how but you do, Mr. Insensitive," she smirked, playfully pushing him and for once, he did not think about reacting about it.

"Really though, if ya cure death, bring me back to life, promise?" he joked.

"Promise," she said seriously. He thought she was joking but at the same time, she thought he was serious and she would happily bring a friend back to life; she did enjoy the concept of zombies.

Little did either know that the day would come that he was cursed by his own employers, or masters, and she was there to rob his corpse of that house and bring him back to life with one little potion...and he would breathe, not as a zombie but as a human being thriving to murder those who had slain him.


	7. Dance with the Devil: Talk dirty to me?

"I promise." Her voice echoed in her dream and she saw the bad boy Slytherin fall into an abyss but there he was again and a dragon slashed him. He came back, smiling this time and she murdered him. Adarte woke up immediately, looking around the Ravenclaw dormitory, sweating and tangled in sheets and she groaned, falling back onto the four poster.

"Wass wrong?" Kim murmured.

"Woke up," Adarte grumbled.

The next morning, Scabior was staring at himself in the mirror after a warm shower, his towel around his waist and he frowned. He pulled his eyes away and went to get dressed in his uniform but with his nice jacket over it. He went out of the commons and to the Great Hall, feeling the desire for an entire feast in his stomach and he may well have done so if it weren't for the house elves replacing every bit of it.

"'ello mate," he sleepily said to Macnair as he joined him.

"Alright? You want to come to Quidditch practice with me? We have two open spots," he said enthusiastically.

Scabior gave him a look. "Why the 'ell not?" he grumbled and he followed Macnair out onto the field where the other Slytherins were with their brooms. Snape was over in the stands with Lily Evans and Potter and his gang were talking in the opposite stands, Potter looking outraged but also attempting to impress the nonlooking redhead.

Adarte was a chaser, he knew and was not surprised to see that the Ravenclaw captain was arguing with Slytherins' about something. He smirked. She was standing passively with her Comet in hand, rolling her eyes at the situation.

A few rude words must have been said because the next thing Scabior saw from the corner of his eye was that the two captains were wrestling about the ground and Adarte was attempting to break it up physically and by shouting at them.

"You bloody wankers, get a hold of yourself!" Was the first intelligable phrase he heard from her and he chuckled to himself, not anticipating Macnair paying attention. "Play each other for the field, sweet fanny adams you are all babies!" Scabior had not heard her swear like that even the slightest since second year when he pulled a cruel prank on one of her friends and she ended up breaking him where the sun does not shine; that made him particularly happy that magic was real.

"Think that's funny?" Macnair asked, raising his eyebrow.

"One girl against two blokes? Yeah," Scabior said unashamed, and when he looked again, they must have come to some sort of compromise because they were being...civil. Well, as civil as opponents of their maturity get.

"If you ever get to that level Scabior, I will twist your tits and glue them to the floor," she said, passing him hotly since apparently she was not allowed to play with them for that day or something.

"Watch it with me love, 'm not doing anything," he said, patting the ground next to him. She took a deep breath but decided to do it anyways.

"Sorry you had to see that. Feltner is an arsehole with jelly bollocks," she grumbled and she took one more calming breath and smiled, "So are you trying out or are you just watching your friends practice beating everybody up?"

"Not funny," he said but not as impatiently as he could have; it was oddly reassuring to know she could still swear like that. "I'm just 'ere to work off my feastuva breakfast."

"So you do that by sitting around talking to mudbloods?" she asked easily.

"You don't git to call yerself that," he firmly said, giving her a look she saw on him often but it was usually towards others. She kept looking at him, waiting for him to answer her question. "I usually swim in the mornins but Macnair asked me if I could come out 'ere. Not a load of fun for me."

"Then let's go swimming. I don't need to break up a pig fight...I mean...a fight," she said, "It will be hard to stop being mean now."

"Ye mean a pig fight Starr and I enjoy yer swearin," he said, unembarassed, "'ow about tha' swim love?" She smiled very slightly to herself, getting up and dusting herself off and they went off to the lake together.

"Ye think you were being mean?" Scabior asked as they walked the edge together and he removed his jacket.

"I was a bit, I didn't need to swear him out did...hey!" He had pushed her into the lake with a grin on his face.

"Todger!" she said and she pulled his legs, tripping him and dragged him in just as he was about to sit up. He thrashed around but finally made it to the top, gasping for breath, taken by surprise.

"Th' good old days eh?" he smirked and he swimmed out.

"I don't remember ever agreeing to be around you while you were by the lake though," she said pointedly.

"No but it 'appened nonetheless," he answered loudly so she could hear. She then went to the edge as he swam on his back.

"Arse," Adarte murmured.

"Wha' was that love?" he asked but the expression on his face made her think he knew exactly what she had said.

She lifted herself up out of the lake, sitting on the damp dirt and she watched him for a while and he was at peace. There was no way she could think of that he could be so vile in that state but he was that kind of person and her rationale beat out her observations.

"Ye gonna just stare at me?" he called, annoyed and she averted her eyes. She made herself busy with taking off her robe so her wand could stay dry and she took off her shoes and socks but the skirt remained on; she was not going to give him more to taunt her with even though she could turn it against him.

"Ya know yer knickers are red?" he asked, smirking and she rolled her eyes, sliding into the lake.

"Ye know yer a baby?" she retorted, swimming to catch up with him and she did a fair job even considering how little she swam.

"Mockin me now mudblood?" he asked, glaring.

"And what is wrong with my blood sweet cheeks?" she countered, blocking him off as she swam passed him and he growled, going around, determined to beat her and he did, not that there was a finish line. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," he answered.

"Exactly. There is nothing wrong with my blood," Adarte said victoriously.

"It's jus' you," he deadpanned.

"Ouch," she sarcastically responded, swimming away from him.

"You are still a mudblood," he made sure she knew.

"Oh yes, of course," she said, kicking so she was upright just in time for him to see her roll those hated eyes.

He found him staring moments later and she stared back in utter confusion, unsure if she should look away or stare him down. He cursed under his breath and turned away and swam out even further.

"Yeah, um...don't go out too far, the squid is probably awake," she said quickly, blinking and she found the shore again, lifting herself up and out.

"The squid can bonk its tentacles," he said, rolling his eyes.

"You know it's rather tacky to swear in front of a lady," Adarte teased.

"No lady I knows jumps in a lake wearin white, no lady dares let me see 'er knickers are red like fire," he countered, mimicking her tone. "If you were a lady, 'm not sure if I woulda liked ye."

"Aw, Scabior actually likes someone," she taunted.

"I like anyone 'oo swears like ye do," he retorted, swimming towards her so he would not have to be so loud.

"Swearing is the hump?" she smirked.

"An' a lady is never tha' crude," Scabior pointedly said, pulling himself out of the water and he waved himself dry, "Ya coming?"

"Where to?" she asked, standing up.

"Dry up and see 'ow the game 'as turned up," he answered as she dried all her clothes out and so they walked, her holding her shoes in her hand and her bright bra no longer obvious to the looking eye.

It turned out the Ravenclaw team lost and had to scatter but Adarte did not mind because she would have been the death of her chaser captain with the temper she had displayed that morning. The Slytherins were flying all over the place, getting enough practice in to beat all the other teams at the same game.

"I should leave you to your...whatever you're doing," Adarte told Scabior, looking him in the eye which he decided he was not comfortable with but stared back stubbornly anyhow; she really had to stop having entrancing eyes.

"Sure," he nodded without any thought of what else to say.

"YOU SWEAR ME OUT THEN YOU DITCH THE GAME, WHICH WE LOSE AND NOW WE DON'T HAVE ANY PRACTICE IN TODAY?! ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE THE SLYTHERIN TEAM THE CUP WHICH THEY HAVE WON FOUR YEARS IN A ROW SO FAR?" Feltner bellowed in her face during lunch so everybody could see.

"'e is wrong if 'e thinks 'e can get to 'er," Scabior said to himself, smirking at the situation going on two tables away.

"I AM SO SICK OF ALL THE CODSWOLLUP YOU PUT ON THIS TEAM!" Feltner was saying at that particular time.

"She will break down and cry, she is so sweet," Macnair said, putting a galleon and a licorice wand on the table.

"She can 'andle it," Scabior argued, "Ye saw 'er earlier."

"Maybe," she said loudly but not yelling, "Our team needs a decent captain, not one who wants to roll around with the other team's captain before thinking properly for the team. Perhaps the problem is that you don't have the bullocks to make the right move, and Feltner your captaincy, if you listened to some of us, you would know that by now and we would have a badass team!"

It was quiet, especially at the Ravenclaw table but not at the Slytherin table at all because everyone knew what had happened at the Quidditch pitch at seven o clock that morning.

"YOU ARE OFF THE BLOODY TEAM!" he yelled.

"Fine, me too," Kim Jones said, standing up with Adarte.

"She's right," Lance Duran agreed, standing as well, crossing his arms across his chest and two other people on the team did the same.

"Dominic," he warned the second year boy.

"I was going to stay until you said that," Dominic said, squaring his jaw, obviously not wanting to take sides.

"Come on," Feltner said but they all simultaneously turned their backs and walked out of the Hall. "I can get a new team anyways!" They did not reply.

"Damn, she 'as power," Scabior said, sort of realizing it for the first time. He had known before but it was stronger in her now. Unfortunately that also made her look, in his eye, more attractive so he had to curse himself for even thinking about the mudblood looking remotely like a witch.


End file.
